


Quota Fulfilled

by PreposterousGreen



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Beelzebub Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Breasts, Bukkake, Bureaucracy, Chair Sex, Clothed Sex, Come Eating, Dirty Talk, Groping, Humor, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, Making an Effort (Good Omens), Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Oviposition, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, She/Her Pronouns for Dagon (Good Omens), Slut Shaming, Threats, WTF, Ze/Zir Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28162251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreposterousGreen/pseuds/PreposterousGreen
Summary: Dagon is short on her quota of lust for the month.Beelzebub is happy to help out.Note: Every tag after "Dirty Talk" is a topic of said dirty talk rather than something actually occurring.
Relationships: Beelzebub/Dagon (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13
Collections: All Gifts Left In A Server For More Than A Fortnight





	Quota Fulfilled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Langerhan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Langerhan/gifts).



The Office for Budget Irresponsibility had submitted its annual report in inch-high lettering that appeared to have been hand-gilded by a professional calligrapher on the backs of Amazon stock certificates. These pages had, according to the frontmatter, been saturated in a perfume called Clive Christian No. 1 Imperial Majesty and their edges anointed with several jars of something called La Prairie Cellular Cream Platinum Rare. And, judging by the layers of postage and customs slips that encrusted the box the report had arrived in, the parcel had circumnavigated upstairs—not _Upstairs_ -upstairs, just Earth—at least thrice in the hands of rush couriers before arriving in Beelzebub's inbox.

Someone was angling for Department of the Year.

Beelzebub wasn't sure ze was buying it. Last year's effort had been decorated with stains and dribbles from the top ten most expensive restaurant dishes in the world at the time. The receipts for the meals, lakes worth of alcohol, and all related luxury travel had been affixed with a Cartier brooch to the front cover of the report—along with a packet of laughable expense claims and their more subtly fraudulent rewrites.

Beelzebub set the report aside. Maybe if ze caught zir office staff sneaking in to try to rub the perfume onto themselves, ze would be more receptive.

At the very least, it would help zir sniff out where they had stowed that _blessed_ duplicate key.

Now, though, it was getting late. If Beelzebub didn't slope off soon, ze would have to then stay long enough to file unauthorized overtime, or else lose both sloth and greed points for the day.

Someone in heavy boots kicked the door savagely.

"Come in," Beelzebub sighed, "you interrupting sack of mashed arseholes."

Dagon kicked the door several more times for good measure before finally coming in. The perfume from the report was so strong that not even Dagon's characteristic fishy aroma could overcome it.

"What the _fuck_ do you want?" Beelzebub said, then winced. Not nearly rude enough. Ze was more tired than ze thought.

"I'm short on my lust quota for the month," Dagon said. Her scaled face was curiously calm.

Beelzebub reached for one of zir desk drawers. "Need me to write you a chitty, then?" ze sneered. As Prince, it was up to zir to fill out any waivers that Hell's senior staff could extract from zir, whether via badgering, blackmail, or bribery, and there were a lot these days.

Dagon reached out and captured the hand with deceptive gentleness. "No," she said, "no chitty this time."

Beelzebub grinned and shook off Dagon's grip. This close, the reek of fish finally outflanked the cloud of perfume. "Fornication on company time? I'm always up for that!" ze said. "Bend over the desk and I'll have you right here. Or you can straddle me in my office chair while I nibble on your tits; that's always a lark."

Dagon smiled too. "No, I'm in the mood for something else," she said evenly.

Something about her tone of voice sent ferocious tingling up Beelzebub's spine and over zir scalp. It was only by clenching zir teeth hard enough to creak that Beelzebub managed not to shudder noticeably. And when Dagon turned on her heel without another word and walked out of the office, Beelzebub found zirself following automatically.

While on duty, Dagon matched Beelzebub's pace with a disgusting obsequiousness that was calculated primarily to annoy the piss out of Beelzebub. This time, though, Beelzebub had to scuttle the entire winding way to keep up with Dagon and her blessed longer legs. It was unusual, but not unprecedented.

They came to a halt in one of Hell's ubiquitous dismal corridors, midway between two equally unidentifiable intersections. Local signage indicated only that _Floors Are Slippery When Slippery_.

How informative.

"Without using a miracle," Dagon said, "do you know where you are?"

Beelzebub scowled truculently. "No," ze said. Somehow, without zir realizing, ze had ended up with zir back to the wall. Dagon, on the other hand, held a commanding position in the centre of the corridor.

Dagon smiled again. She said, "Do you know how many demons per hour typically use this corridor?"

Beelzebub rolled zir eyes. "Obviously, no."

"We do keep statistics on hall traffic, you know," the Lord of Files said, faintly patronising in a way that set Beelzebub's teeth on edge.

"I'm well aware," Beelzebub said icily. They landed in zir inbox, giant phonebook-sized reports that would have served equally well as sedative as they did ballast, on a biweekly basis. Ze had to initial every third or fourth tissue-thin page, or else they fucking came back, again and again.

"Touch yourself."

Delivered in a flat tone, the command punched the breath right out of Beelzebub's thin chest.

Ze managed to disguise it—or so ze thought—as an indignant huff. "No," ze said, slowly and disdainfully. "Also, fuck your mother."

Dagon put on a look so saccharine it was positively carcinogenic. The Archangel fucking Gabriel himself would have been nauseated, and he practically invented gooey condescension.

"Christ on a cracker," Beelzebub muttered, appalled. "Stop that."

"Then do as I say."

"Fine," Beelzebub said. Ze flapped a hand at Dagon and rammed it down the front of zir trousers. "Hand go in pants. Touching myself. Happy?"

"You do realise you're going to get orgasms out of this, don't you?" Dagon marvelled. "You are such a hardhead!"

"File a complaint, then!"

Feeling unaccountably ashamed of zir behaviour, Beelzebub pulled zir hand out of zir trousers and let it drop to zir side.

Ze swallowed dryly. "How do you want me to do it?"

"What genitals are you wearing?"

"A cunt," Beelzebub said. "Human standard."

"Very good. Unbuckle your belt."

Beelzebub complied.

The instructions continued, specific and granular: undo your button, lower your zipper, slide your trousers down your hips, not that far. Dagon took minimal interest in Beelzebub's knickers, which was fair enough: they were plain and grey and altogether uninteresting. Beelzebub thought about sprucing them up with a miracle—crotchless and latex, perhaps?—but Dagon didn't instruct it, so ze didn't.

When Dagon ordered zir to pull aside the gusset of zir knickers, Beelzebub finally hesitated. Ze glanced down the hallway reflexively. There was nobody there, and no noises other than the intermittent _thunk-fzzn_ of a dying fluorescent light tube flickering off and struggling back on.

Well, whatever. There was already so much blackmail material out there on both of them that pictures of _this_ wouldn't move the needle, except possibly any that featured Dagon's dopey expression. Beelzebub almost snapped, _Do something else with your ridiculous face! At least leer at me!_ , but managed to refrain. Instead, ze obeyed the command and tucked aside the fabric behind zir pinky finger, baring zirself to the clammy air and zir so-called subordinate's clammy gaze.

"Very good," Dagon said, still seemingly unaffected. "Now, widen your stance."

Finally, Dagon conjured a nearly rusted-out folding chair. It squeaked loudly in protest as the Lord of Files settled onto it and slouched against the warped backrest.

"I suppose I could just leave you to it and interject if I wanted to see anything in particular. You're a grown demon; you know your way around a standard-issue pussy," Dagon said languidly. "But on the other hand, I feel like I've got a lot to say today."

Beelzebub shivered. When Dagon had _a lot to say_ during sex, the results were usually spectacular.

"Have you then," ze said. "Like what?"

Dagon leaned forward. "Get those fingers moving and I'll tell you."

The position wasn't ideal, but it would do. Beelzebub swirled a few fingertips around zir entrance to collect the wet that was gathering there, then pulled it up towards zir clit. Ze circled that for a few turns, then went back to zir hole for more slick. Ze was about to glance at Dagon, perhaps to prompt her into starting, but Dagon preempted it.

"I was thinking about you, earlier," she said. "All through my blessed morning meetings. About how much your eyes would water if I fucked your face really hard, and what kind of lewd noises you'd make swallowing down gobs of my gooey roe."

"Eggs," Beelzebub rasped. "Nice."

"'Nice,' is that all? I'm offering to pour my gelatinous children into your stomach until it overflows, and all you have to say about it is 'nice'?"

Beelzebub spread zir labia wider and redoubled the circling of zir fingertips. "My guts stretch a lot, you know. You'll have to produce a quantity to get _my_ stomach to overflow," ze said. "Or do you plan on squeezing my bulging belly and _making_ it all pour back out?"

Dagon's breath hitched noticeably. "I might do that, sure," she said, with forced casualness. "Or I might just stop up your throat with my cock and watch my eggs spurt out the other end of you and dribble down your skinny thighs."

Beelzebub's hand stuttered. "Now there's a mental image," ze said. Ze slid zir left hand further down, still spreading zirself with its thumb, and pushed two fingers into zir hole.

"Messy; but you know me," Dagon said, "I keep a waterproof cover on my bed as a matter of course."

Beelzebub thrust steadily, then added a finger. "The roe'll come out my nose, too. Or will you pinch that shut?"

Dagon swallowed audibly. "No," she decided eventually. "No, I'll stuff little tentacles up your nostrils. They'll keep you from snotting all over my pubic hair, too."

Beelzebub stifled a gasp. "That's efficient."

"Now, I bet you're wondering," Dagon said, "why I'm telling you this instead of doing it to you."

"The thought— _hahh_ —occurred to me."

Beelzebub's back had hunched over as ze sought the right angle with which to stroke zirself most effectively, and so Dagon had to lean forward and down to look zir in the eye. Beelzebub stared back without zir fingers letting up in the slightest.

"Why," Dagon said in an infuriating tone, "I simply couldn't decide what I wanted to do to you! Because wait 'til you hear what the other option was!"

Beelzebub groaned loudly, half out of arousal and half sheer annoyance.

"See, that was what I was thinking about during my _morning_ meetings. After lunch, it was a different fantasy altogether. I had had a few martinis by that point, of course."

"Go on," Beelzebub said warily. Ze sensed absurdity in the offing—how many martinis?—and wondered if ze shouldn't squeak out a quick climax before it arrived.

Dagon put her pointed teeth on display with a lurid grin, confirming Beelzebub's worst fears. "Well, _after_ my several-martini lunch, I started fantasising about whispering all of that in your ear while you finger-fucked yourself!"

Beelzebub's jaw dropped and zir hands flew away from zir crotch in fury. Ze lunged at Dagon. "You fucking—what was that _couldn't decide_ nonsense? I swear to Satan, I'm not even going to wipe my hands before I strangle you and leave your corpse right here in this hallway with my pussy juice all over your _wrung fucking neck!_ "

Dagon fended zir off, cackling like a seagull. The derelict chair creaked and flexed dangerously as they grappled.

"You ludicrous bucket of bait, I can't _stand_ you sometimes," Beelzebub howled, stalking away abruptly.

"Oh, fuck me, that was fun," Dagon hooted. "Your fucking _face_! It's so _red_! I'm dying here; you don't need to strangle me at all. Did I ruin your orgasm?"

Beelzebub crossed zir arms over zir chest, ignoring the fact that zir trousers were making a bid to tangle 'round zir knees. "I hate you," ze said. "I hate your fishy guts."

"I hate you too, you iniquitous insect," Dagon simpered. "Here, c'mon, don't sulk—let me make it up to you." She opened her arms and gestured towards her lap. "You did say you were interested in some chair sex, didn't you? With titty groping?"

Beelzebub sniffed, "That chair is a disgrace to the idea of chair sex; it barely holds you. And _I_ was going to grope _your_ tits. No, I was going to _nibble_ on them."

"Yeah, well, now I'm going to grope yours, aren't I?"

It was a persuasive argument. Beelzebub relented. With the snap of zir fingers, ze replaced zir sagging trousers with a pinstripe pencil skirt and thigh-highs for easier access. Ze glared at the chair, then at Dagon; but the chair remained stubbornly decrepit and Dagon only looked back with deep equanimity.

Well, if it collapsed, it would be stupid Dagon's stupid tailbone that took the hit.

Beelzebub hitched up zir skirt and settled down astride Dagon's lap. Ze leaned in close and used zir most seductive whisper into Dagon's ear. "You are provisionally forgiven," ze said, wrapping zir arms around Dagon's shoulders, "but if my orgasm isn't up to standards, the result will be the same: your corpse, my pussy juice smeared on it. Got it?"

Dagon huffed laughter against Beelzebub's shoulder. "Got it," she said.

"And no, I won't expedite your paperwork with the Reincorporation Board," Beelzebub said. "Not this time. You'll have to queue up for weeks. Maybe months. I'll come visit you to taunt you while you wait."

"Ooo, now there's the real threat!" Dagon whistled. "Guess I should get my act together."

"Guess you should," Beelzebub murmured.

Dagon tipped Beelzebub back in her lap and ran her hands up zir sides. Beelzebub returned Dagon's insipid look with a surly glower, but that didn't last long once Dagon's slim fingers insinuated their way into the bow of Beelzebub's neck ribbon.

Dagon tugged the ribbon free of Beelzebub's collar, smoothed it neatly, and then, maintaining pointed eye contact the entire time, dropped it into a conveniently-located puddle of slop by her side.

Beelzebub scowled. "Jerk."

"File a complaint!" Dagon chortled. "I love it when you go casual Friday with your collar open. It makes me feel all sorts of things. In my pants."

Accordingly, she pulled open Beelzebub's collar and leaned forward to blow air on the revealed skin where the fabric had been tight. Beelzebub squirmed in her lap, uncomfortable in just the right way over having those teeth so close to zir throat. But Dagon sat back again and applied herself to more shirt buttons.

"I'm annoyed with you," she said placidly. "Once you mentioned straddling you in your chair, it was all I could bloody think about. I had a _plan_ for the afternoon, and this didn't feature."

"Oh, is _that_ why you couldn't get a proper chair requisitioned?" Beelzebub snorted. Ze jolted slightly as each button popped open and dank air touched zir chest.

Dagon stopped at a middle button and tugged open the shirt so that it neatly framed Beelzebub's small breasts.

"Very nice," she growled. "I assume you put the bra on just for this."

Beelzebub leaned forward, presenting zirself for closer inspection. "Opens in the back, for your inconvenience," ze said with a wink.

"And a double dose of those shitty little hooks, I suppose."

"Oh, the whole back is lined with hooks. Hooks on top of hooks. Hooks for days." Beelzebub wriggled. "Are you going to touch them already, or just keep gabbing? I was told there would be groping."

Dagon grinned. "Greedy slut," she said. _Finally_ , she put her hands on Beelzebub's tits, lightly, then slid them down so that the curves of her thumbs and index fingers cupped the underside of each.

"Again," Beelzebub sighed. "Say that again."

Dagon leaned in; pressed harder against Beelzebub's ribcage; thumbed zir nipples over the spongy bra cups. " _Greedy slut._ "

Beelzebub moaned.

"I could turn you around on my lap, you know," Dagon murmured. She nudged down the tops of the bra cups so that Beelzebub's nipples peeked out. "Since you sigil my lovely traffic stats without reading them, for all you know, there could be a rush in this hallway five minutes from now. Everyone who passed by could have a grab"—she punctuated this with a firm squeeze—"because you're a slut who loves it and you'll take it from anyone, right?"

"Yes!" Beelzebub leaned hard into Dagon's hands as they began to knead zir soft flesh rhythmically. "Anyone. Will you look over my shoulder and watch their grubby hands roving all over my breasts and belly?"

"Oh, wouldn't miss it. And maybe most of them will be in a hurry to get to their next meeting, but some of them will have time, yeah? They'll stick around long enough to jerk off all over your scabby little tits; get that cute black bra"—she plucked at one strap, then slid both down Beelzebub's shoulders, under zir sleeves—"nice and soaked in demon spunk."

"Face, too," Beelzebub gasped. The bra would only go so far unless Dagon undid the back or straps, but all that talk about hooks must have put her off that idea. So instead, it caught where it was, a few inches below zir breasts, and pulled against zir upper arms while Dagon squashed, cupped, and jiggled zir tits with gleeful abandon.

"Oh yeah," Dagon said. "Definitely. And then I'll flip you back 'round and lick it all off again while I bounce you on my cock for all the stragglers to gawk at. A little consolation for when they get locked out for being late. Well, your skirt will cover most of the good stuff up, but you know what I mean."

"Got to leave _something_ to their depraved imaginations. You'll— _hnn_ —kiss me, right? So I get a taste?"

"Of course!" Dagon said magnanimously. "I'll kiss you a lot. Tongue tickling your tonsils while my cock stretches your slutty pussy."

She captured Beelzebub's head and gave a practical demonstration of the top half of this offer.

The instant they broke apart, although ze was well-tangled up in bra and shirt, Beelzebub dove zir hands between their bodies. Ze grunted at what ze found.

"It's not that I don't adore your cunt," ze said, "but you're going to have a Heaven of a time pleasing me with it in this position."

"Well, we could finger each other," Dagon said, "but there are better positions for that, too. No, I've had an idea, and I think it's a rather good one."

She rested her palm on Beelzebub's cheek and chin and hooked a thumb, first on Beez' lower lip and then on zir teeth. Beelzebub allowed this, though ze made sure zir expression said clearly, _Watch it, or I'll relieve you of those digits_.

Dagon's eyes twinkled merrily. With her other hand, she reached up and pinched the tip of Beelzebub's tongue.

"See, I haven't got a cock now," she said, "but I think you'd enjoy _making_ me have one. Like so. But with your mouth."

She pulled Beelzebub's tongue out, gently but firmly, as far as it would go.

"Ah," Beelzebub said, drooling. "Ah 'hink ah hee."

Dagon kept hold of zir tongue just long enough to be annoying.

Beelzebub climbed out of her lap, checked for any squalid puddles, and knelt down.

"Since I've never done this before," ze said, "you'll have to excuse me if I gnaw off anything sensitive by accident."

Dagon beamed down at zir. "Oh no, mine frightful fiend," she said, "the rules say, no teeth!"

"What rules!" Beelzebub scoffed. "There are no bloody rules! You're just making shit up!"

"There are so! I would know, wouldn't I?"

Beelzebub rested zir forehead against Dagon's knee in defeat. "Fine," ze said, "no gnawing."

Dagon scooted forward and spread her legs avidly. The chair groaned and emitted a puff of powdered rust, but held up. As a concession, Dagon undid her own fly; fortunately for Beelzebub's jaw, she wasn't wearing any knickers.

Beelzebub licked up one of Dagon's labia and then up the other to press them apart for easier access. Ze struggled against the impulse to just give Dagon's clit and hole a seeing-to; it was unusual for zir to be down here with any other objective than oral sex. For a moment, ze breathed slowly, generating a sultry fug in the narrow space. Then ze tilted zir head, suctioned zir lips onto the pink jut of tissue, and began to work zir infernal miracle. 

Dagon made a high, ragged noise. 

The sound of it sent a jolt of fresh heat straight to Beelzebub's groin and turned the miracle into an ornery beast. Dagon's inchoate cock wanted to leap into existence (and down Beelzebub's throat) all at once, and that wouldn't do at all. Beelzebub pinched the inside of Dagon's thigh sharply to tame it, and her.

Dagon hissed, but the miracle became more compliant. Beelzebub could lick, suck, and tug it into existence with zir lips at zir own careful (and hopefully infuriating) pace.

So ze did.

By the time ze had wrought a cock from Dagon's substance that met with zir standards for girth, length, and heft, Dagon was sweating and red-faced and her fingers were denting her own thighs with the effort of staying still; yet the chair was squeaking away anyhow. 

Beelzebub leaned in and nuzzled the new erection.

"How's my driving?" ze asked.

"If you don't get up here in a blessed hurry, I'm going to come off all over your forehead," Dagon croaked.

"Ooo, no!" Beelzebub said. Ze scrambled to zir feet, swaying as blood rushed to zir head. "Can't have that, can we?"

Without further ado, ze yanked up zir skirt, straddled Dagon's lap again, and sank down onto her cock in one smooth motion. 

The chair let out a shriek of protest that drowned out Beelzebub's eager moan. "Shut it!" Dagon snarled. "No, not you, boss."

Beelzebub cackled helplessly into Dagon's neck. Ze tangled the fingers of one hand into Dagon's unruly red mane, then levered zirself up onto zir tiptoes, so that Dagon's cock almost slipped out of zir.

"Didn't you want to be in charge here?" ze asked. "At least put your hands on my hips and shove me down on it. You'll notice how big I made it—plenty to make me squeal—so a little force would not go amiss."

"Does it count if you're telling me to tell you what to do?" Dagon sniffed. But she slid her hands up Beelzebub's thighs anyway, plucking at the scrunched-up skirt, and then clamped her thumbs in hard just above Beelzebub's hip bones.

"Ah, fuck," Beelzebub wheezed. "There, good, that, yes!"

As instructed, Dagon dragged zir roughly down again, and, as promised, Beelzebub emitted a delightful squeal. The noise seemed to remind Dagon what she was about, and she rearranged her hands on Beelzebub's narrow hips for easier slamming.

"Good thing you're nice and light," she growled. "I can use your little body like a fleshlight. Just haul your clenching cunt up and down my fat cock until I spill."

"Do it—fucking do it," Beelzebub gasped. "Rail me, fill me, _use me_."

Dagon _used_ zir all right—Dagon used zir _hard_. But it didn't take much of such use before Beelzebub was coming spectacularly and with a howl. Ze battered Dagon's shoulder with one open hand and yanked at her hair with the other. Zir heels kicked out on the tile floor, and the chair groaned under their combined weight as Beelzebub settled all the way down into Dagon's lap.

Dagon rolled her hips at a steadier pace, fucking Beelzebub through the aftershocks the way ze liked best. She did this until Beelzebub collapsed forward onto her, chest to chest, and sighed into Dagon's red cloud of a ponytail.

Dagon exhaled a lungful of air and settled her arms around her Prince. "If I'm in charge here," she said, "why is it that I'm the one getting all the bruises?"

"Something I ask myself every day," ze said ruefully. "Don't stop doing that, it feels incredible."

"What, just—" Dagon grunted.

"Yeah, that." 

The noises their bodies made moving together were quieter now but no less obscene for it. Beelzebub took over the hip-rolling motion, making Dagon's cock swirl around in zir pussy even as it slid barely in and out. Cheekily, Dagon rearranged and smoothed zir skirt to cover up both their laps; nobody looking on would have been able to tell that the Prince of Flies' sloppy cunt was stuffed balls-deep with the Lord of Files' ruddy prick.

Then she started rummaging inside Beelzebub's disheveled shirt.

"Get this bloody—hnn—thing off of you," she muttered.

"You don't have to," Beelzebub panted. "I'll just—"

"Ha!" Dagon said. "Got it in one! Fuck you, stupid hooks!"

But opening the back of the bra didn't really help disentangle it, not with the straps still caught on Beez' arms. Beelzebub shook zir head in mock-despair.

"You're going to have to get the lot off—" 

"Quit faffing about and just fuck me," ze said, scuffing Dagon lightly on the shoulder.

"I can do that," Dagon said complacently. She squeezed Beelzebub's hips again and gave zir an especially deep thrust.

"That, yes, there!"

Beelzebub closed zir eyes and relaxed into Dagon's embrace; into the slow, oceanic roll of their hips together and the deep sliding pressure all the way up into the pit of zir gut. Ze could feel another orgasm in the offing, but didn't pursue it on zir own. Dagon would bring it to zir in good time, once she stopped being mesmerised by Beelzebub's sweat-sheened breasts, right in her line of sight, and once she gave up on keeping the chair from disintegrating into a mound of rust flakes beneath them.

Dagon's breathing quickened. Her hips began to roll faster, then to go off their rhythm. Beelzebub gasped as a particularly erratic thrust jolted a part of zir anatomy that usually didn't get touched. Ze got zir feet beneath zir, just in time.

"Go on, then," ze rasped, "pump your filth into me like I deserve it."

"You do deserve it," Dagon groaned. She tightened her grasp around Beelzebub's waist, braced a hand in the small of zir back, and sat back against the warped backrest.

Dagon thrust into Beelzebub savagely a dozen more times, her thighs iron-taut between zirs, and then came with an incoherent cry. Beelzebub rode it out, and as ze felt Dagon's thick spend pulsing into zir cunt, ze let zir own orgasm wash over zir. 

Then, at last, there was a plunging sensation and a rending crash of metal as the chair gave way.

It sent them sprawling to the floor, still joined together. Beelzebub yelped with laughter, while Dagon merely yelped. Shards of rust skittered around them over the dingy tiles.

"Unbelievable," Dagon wheezed amidst the wreckage, waving away the dust. "I thought it'd hold up!"

"You're insane," Beelzebub said. "It was _never_ going to. I knew it was doomed as soon as you conjured it!"

They rolled apart, both trying to avoid getting metal fragments into anywhere delicate.

"It's a miracle it lasted as long as it did," Beelzebub said, surveying the destruction. It was so absolute that there was no longer anything recognizable as a part of a chair.

"Exactly!" Dagon insisted. "It _was_ a miracle! My miracle. So I still think it should have held up."

"I don't think Satan's own miracle could have saved it, but whatever," Beelzebub said. Ze stood up and shimmied zir bra and shirt back into more or less the right position, but didn't move to refasten any of it. "So, was that sufficient to fulfill your quota? Or are we going to have to adjourn to the bedroom?"

Dagon stood as well, pulling up her zipper. Her eyes were merry as she said, "What quota?"


End file.
